Sorry readers--I have been on blog hiatus for the last week. But I have not neglected you entirely. I've been running and thinking, just as this blog promises. And now I will do the sharing.

First, some housekeeping: I've been trying to come up with a format of some sort, so that you can become comfortable and familiar with this blog and so I don't have to think so much when I write it. But I'm stumped so far. The daily gnat counting is just dumb--I think it got old before I even finished typing out 'gnat'--and I only ever run either one or two laps around the park. So perhaps you can help me come up with a hook. Any ideas?

And now, the running: I seem to have overcome my running suckiness. I was barely making it around the park last week, gasping and wheezing between mouthfuls of phlegm. I think I was sick, I don't know. This week I am back on my horse. I did two laps today, two laps Monday, and a good solid one yesterday. So it's looking good. For what, you ask? For my race on Saturday. 5k, pretty wussy. But I'm so out of shape that this is actually a decent test of my progress.

Okay, I can feel your eyes wandering and your brain looking for an out. So I'll skip to the highlights.

• On Mondays , a local drum and bagpipe corps practices in the southeast corner of Wash Park. That is the best running motivator I've found yet, outside of the chicks--you know, running groupies.
• I made up a couple new games to pass the time while I run. One is called, "I Know You!" The goal of the game is to find other runners or park-goers who look like people I know or know of. Today I saw a friend from law school, Katherine Zeta Jones, and some kid from elementary school. Sometimes you have to be kind of liberal with the "recognition," but I think we're all pretty liberal here.
• My other game is not exactly novel--a bit of an old standby, really. I make up stories about the other park folk. There's only one guy I see there regularly, and, actually, I see him every freakin' time I'm there. Kind of odd. But anyway, I've named him Magic the Gathering. I'm pretty sure he lived at TOAD at Albion and hung out with Todd Krabach, my freshman year roommate. Magic has longish hair, pulled back into a pony tail, and coke-bottle glasses with thin frames. His jeans are light-colored and super high-rise, circa 1989. I'm pretty sure he stole them from his very tall older sister. You kind of wonder if he's wearing anything else that belongs to his sister. (I said you wonder--sicko!) There's something not quite right about his baseball hat, although I can't figure out what. It's just off, in that marching band/medievalists club way. Anyway, what's most notable about Magic is that he walks around the Wash Park dirt paths with his face buried in a book that he holds up with one hand, and two shiny silver balls in the other hand. He is doing at least four things at once: 1) walking, 2) reading, 3) moving the silver balls around and around each other, and 4) not getting beat up. I know, I get that this is not high school and band dorks don't just get beat up for wearing dorky hats and reading, but it still seems worth mentioning.

I have to go to sleep. I have more stories, and I think they're going to start getting more interesting, so don't stop reading this thing. 'Night.

Brandon